Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear diary
I am doomed. After a week lazing in the field, eating, chillaxing and generally having fun Mother returned yesterday. With her came the saddle man with my saddle. Poo. I seriously was hoping for at least another week or so of no work but alas mother seems to have other ideas.
After saddle man had finished poking me and the saddle which way and that way mother leapt aboard (ok scrambled in a slightly inelegant fashion sorry mum I have to be honest and Ellen Whitaker you arent) and proceeded to play about in the ménage whilst proclaiming the saddle felt much better. I have to say I didnt notice much difference other than mother may have been on double hay rations last week .not that I was brave enough to mention this.
So today the dawn came and along with it black clouds, howling winds and much general nastiness. I prepared myself for a day grazing in the shelter of the big hedge when mum turns up with my saddle. Has she gone stark raving insane? Then Billys mum arrived with his tack and the awful truth dawned upon me we were going for a hack. Now I love hacking but hacking in a monsoon is not my idea of fun. Plus I have noted of late an increase in the number of the tractors of terror. Is it their breeding season? Mother and Aunty C proudly announced they were not fair weather riders. Maybe not mum but I am fast seeing the attraction of being a fair weather horse
Anyway despite me playing her up in the stable to the extent she smacked me on the shoulder with a brush, mother insisted on dragging me out and making me follow Billy. Well let me tell you I know its Friday the 13th but was there any need to send 8 tractors out after us? There was one that came towards us offering a big bale of straw in its claws like a bribe - Come eat my straw my prettys. Yeah right then youll leap on us and before we know it well have our legs wrapped round our heads as Billy and Hovis bales. No thank you. We survived the encounters but mum seemed to find my manly snorting funny and called me a pansy. Moi? Pansy? I think shes got me confused with someone else. Admittedly I did prance like Darcy Bussell over that weird red road with the 30 sign on it but heh a boy cant be too careful road shouldnt be red. Its in the rules. Plus we all know that for sale signs eat horses so why mum has not been appraised of this yet I have no idea. The woman is so behind the times..
Anyway we went for a nice trot and mum mentioned something about stubble racing but the big spraying thing was going in the field next door and mum and aunty C said they werent going to tempt fate. Whos fate? Is she fit? And do you tempt her with a carrot or a mint?
Eventually we got back home and mum put me out in the field. Weve had a change around of late so Im no longer next to tarty smartie. This is ruining my chances of a summer romance with my equine Mrs Robinson and I think is unjustly unfair. Could one of you tell mum to move me back so I can pull please? Im next to big bad Billy now and the dude is cool but not exactly as much fun as tarty smartie. Thankfully he does seem to be a mans man and thus has not attempted to give me any hugs from behind. This makes him alright in my book but I need to get back to the ladies. I need a cunning plan any suggestions?
I am doomed. After a week lazing in the field, eating, chillaxing and generally having fun Mother returned yesterday. With her came the saddle man with my saddle. Poo. I seriously was hoping for at least another week or so of no work but alas mother seems to have other ideas.
After saddle man had finished poking me and the saddle which way and that way mother leapt aboard (ok scrambled in a slightly inelegant fashion sorry mum I have to be honest and Ellen Whitaker you arent) and proceeded to play about in the ménage whilst proclaiming the saddle felt much better. I have to say I didnt notice much difference other than mother may have been on double hay rations last week .not that I was brave enough to mention this.
So today the dawn came and along with it black clouds, howling winds and much general nastiness. I prepared myself for a day grazing in the shelter of the big hedge when mum turns up with my saddle. Has she gone stark raving insane? Then Billys mum arrived with his tack and the awful truth dawned upon me we were going for a hack. Now I love hacking but hacking in a monsoon is not my idea of fun. Plus I have noted of late an increase in the number of the tractors of terror. Is it their breeding season? Mother and Aunty C proudly announced they were not fair weather riders. Maybe not mum but I am fast seeing the attraction of being a fair weather horse
Anyway despite me playing her up in the stable to the extent she smacked me on the shoulder with a brush, mother insisted on dragging me out and making me follow Billy. Well let me tell you I know its Friday the 13th but was there any need to send 8 tractors out after us? There was one that came towards us offering a big bale of straw in its claws like a bribe - Come eat my straw my prettys. Yeah right then youll leap on us and before we know it well have our legs wrapped round our heads as Billy and Hovis bales. No thank you. We survived the encounters but mum seemed to find my manly snorting funny and called me a pansy. Moi? Pansy? I think shes got me confused with someone else. Admittedly I did prance like Darcy Bussell over that weird red road with the 30 sign on it but heh a boy cant be too careful road shouldnt be red. Its in the rules. Plus we all know that for sale signs eat horses so why mum has not been appraised of this yet I have no idea. The woman is so behind the times..
Anyway we went for a nice trot and mum mentioned something about stubble racing but the big spraying thing was going in the field next door and mum and aunty C said they werent going to tempt fate. Whos fate? Is she fit? And do you tempt her with a carrot or a mint?
Eventually we got back home and mum put me out in the field. Weve had a change around of late so Im no longer next to tarty smartie. This is ruining my chances of a summer romance with my equine Mrs Robinson and I think is unjustly unfair. Could one of you tell mum to move me back so I can pull please? Im next to big bad Billy now and the dude is cool but not exactly as much fun as tarty smartie. Thankfully he does seem to be a mans man and thus has not attempted to give me any hugs from behind. This makes him alright in my book but I need to get back to the ladies. I need a cunning plan any suggestions?
